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“Fuck,” I said as I nearly ran into my four-poster bed. My head was spinning. “How much did I drink tonight?”
“I’m going to go with a lot. You were this drunk that night we played pool with Em last Christmas.”
“No way,” I slurred. “Em was way drunker than me that night.”
“Yes. But you were wasted, too.”
“And you wouldn’t even help me inside.”
“Yes, well,” he said, glancing away from me.
“What?”
I leaned against a post of my bed and stared at him. His eyes met mine, full of desire, and suddenly, I was so fucking turned on. One look, and I was a goner.
“I didn’t trust myself to come inside,” he admitted.
“Oh? Why not?” I asked with a grin.
“Because I wanted more than I was allowed to have that night, and you would have given me what I wanted.”
“I would have,” I agreed softly.
I’d wanted him so bad. He’d driven me home from Flips that night because I was drunk, and all I’d wanted to do was kiss him. I was sure that I had been blatantly telegraphing that. He’d read it all over my expression. And, instead of coming inside where he surely would have cheated on his wife, he’d left.
Part of me had been frustrated because of the connection that was clearly there, but part of me, the sober part of me, appreciated that he’d left. He could have been the dick who cheated to get out of his marriage, but he wasn’t that guy. He hadn’t been that guy on New Year’s either. He’d stopped talking to me. Even though I’d hated it. And then he’d waited until it was the right time for us.
Like now.
“But you can have it tonight,” I told him.
He grinned. “I think you’re a bit drunk tonight.”
“So? You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me.”
“Oh, I most certainly would be.”
I shrugged off the suit jacket he had thrown on my shoulders earlier, leaving me in nothing but my jean shorts and tank top. I moved over to where he was standing, half-in and half-out of my bedroom. My hands fell to his belt buckle.
“You don’t look like you want to be in this suit anymore.”
“I’d be happy to burn the suit.”
“Did she touch your suit?” I asked, my voice gritty and sharp.
“She looked at it. That was enough for me.”
“Me, too. Definitely burning it.” I unbuckled the belt and then fumbled with the button before sliding down the zipper. My eyes were still glued on his. “We’ll probably have to take it off first.”
He chuckled hoarsely. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I grinned. My fingers slipped the knot of his tie free and let it loose. Then, I worked up the buttons of his crisp white shirt. I fumbled a few times as I tried in my haste to get the shirt off, but he grinned and eased out the last few buttons. I pressed my hands against his rock-hard abdomen and then up his smooth, cut chest. My nails dug into his shoulders as I pushed his shirt off his smoking-hot body.
God, he was sexy as hell. I wanted him naked like I hadn’t wanted anything else. The alcohol might be fueling me, but it didn’t change anything about how much I wanted him.
“Fuck, Heidi,” he said.
He leaned into me and captured my lips. His kiss was urgent and needy. He wanted this as much as I did. Our bodies crashed together, and soon, I was pressed back against a post on my bed. His hands reached for my jean shorts and popped the button.
